Romeo and Juliet: Tales Before the Tragedy
by thepersona
Summary: Yes,we do know so much about Romeo and Juliet.But what about their parents?Just read it and see for yourself! Please Review :D
1. A Foolish Beginning

First Tale: A Foolish Beginning

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Note from the Writer,Glen Orila: I don't want to start this story like Shakespeare, as I want to minimize the figurative language of the story. Romeo and Juliet have died due to their unbridled love. Their parents, Lords and Ladies Capulet and Montague have woken up from their hatred and dark pride. They started to remember their regrets and mistakes with their _own _childhoods, love lives, and ambitions that they too once had. The feud was admitted to be foolish, but they sustained it for the sake of their ancestors' wishes. Thus, it had turned out to be a tradition in which people have become accustomed to. But now, the feud is over, and these tales are those that haunted the parents while the depression of their losses. P.S.May be quite bias to Capulets when it comes to narration, but you'll see. Please review!:D

I do think that a story was born due to the story of another. Unlike the tragedy of Tybalt (another fanfiction by another user), these are stories that took place before Juliet and Romeo even knew what love really meant.

It was said that long ago, even before the parents of the star crossed lovers were born, only one family ruled the beautiful city of Verona. The people always got along with each other and no brawls occurred. Every citizen was allowed to wear any type of clothing of any color. It was Escalus the first who was the Prince of Verona that time. He never married, and he only had three mistresses in his whole life. In such a coincidence, his first two mistresses gave birth at the same day, at the same time, his children were all boys. The youngest one was born a few years after the first two. There was no month or even week that the lord of Verona didn't hold a gathering. In one of his last parties, he was quite old. As the hours of celebration passed, the men started to get drunk. Thus, their punchlines started to get even harder and the jokes sounded more like insults. Escalus's sons, Montague and Capulet were two of these men. They did drink but they never planned on being drunk. The brothers were best of friends, even though they knew that they were only step brothers. Within the court members, there were also sides who opposed each other. Being drunk, they started to free their secrets. One of the agendas that these sides argued about was the descendant of Verona's throne. One party wanted Capulet, and the other party wanted Montague to rule. Yes, they had major issues. Back to the party, one of the court members named Leonardo, called young Montague over to their table. At he same time, the court member named Antonio called Capulet.

"Young Montague, hath thou ever thought of ruling Verona?" asked Leonardo.

"I did, but I hath not taken it quite seriously. The last decision shalt be for my father after all," he answered diplomatically. Montague was too diplomatic, in fact that drunk Leonardo started to lose his patience. He had to make Montague hate his brother.

(This is the writer. I'll write the dialogue in a more modern manner.)

"I hear that the prince has already decided on who the next Prince would be, and I do not want to prolong the suspense. He had chosen you," Montague was slightly in shock. But he started to wonder why his father had not told him such important news yet.

"Does Capulet know?" "Oh, there you go. Yes, Capulet does know. That is why his mood has been bitter all day long. And here is a piece of news that I had eavesdropped from the gossiping maids. They said that Capulet was so upset that he pointed the tip of his rapier at your dear father,"

Leonardo was filled with lies. Montague was alarmed. He didn't care about the throne, but he loved his father dearly, even more than his brother. Without further ado, Montague rushed over to the table where Capulet sat with Antonio's party.

"How dare you point a blade at father? Have you no respect? No composure or poise being the son of the prince?"

"I never dared point a blade at anyone at all! But I certainly never tried to poison my father's drink!" answered Capulet. And now we figure what information Antonio's party gave to Capulet.

The night's celebration ended with a royal rumble. After that night, no type of sermon was able to ease the rage of the brothers, not even the prince's. After a few the brothers were already old enough to start a family. The youngest son, Vivaldi, was an adolescent who was good natured, and he didn't interfere with the anger that his older brothers had. The prince was strolling in the garden when he caught his elder sons in a one on one brawl. He immediately ceased them and had a conclusive idea. He has decided that the next Prince of Verona would be young Vivaldi. He then excluded the two men from being part of the royal family. The news spread all over Verona, and without the use of campaigning, people automatically chose a side. Both Montague and Capulet were successful aristocrats due to their intelligence as they were sent out penniless by their father. As the generations passed, the biased version of this story was passed as well. Both families believed on what the unmodified story had stated. All those under the house of Montague wore vibrant cobalt clothing, as the Capulets wore their elegant crimson costumes with pride.

--End of First Tale--


	2. Dream of Change

Second Tale:Dream of Change (Lady Capulet)

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So my dear readers, that was how the feud began. It is quite foolish if you were to ask me. In fact, too foolish to be credible. Anyway, this next tale magnifies the effects of this feud on the next few generations.(my time) As I told you, I am Caroline. But everyone knows me as Lady Capulet.

I was born as the eldest daughter of a poor family, the Niccolini family. I had an older brother, six years older than me, in fact. His name was Batali. I must admit that I was more outgoing than he was since I got caught in trouble more times than he ever did. I stole food in desperation. The times were hard as brawls damaged public properties and the taxes needed to be raised by our Prince Escalus XIV. My younger sister, Marie was sickly. My parents needed to work too hard so we barely met. Whenever we did, my greeting would be a spank. Batali would always be the hero, as he would never try to do the things I did in order for us to be able to even see something on the table. He and I weren't really close when it comes to the bond. But somehow, I felt that he did admire me for my bravery and stubbornness. I had my friends of course. But I had one friend in particular whom I loved dearly. Her name was Cezanne Giovanni. We did the routine everyday, and it was a miracle that we never got caught. Maybe not a miracle, more like luck. Cezanne and I started the stealing business in the fresh age of six. We had advanced minds. We knew what was happening around us-street smarts. When I turned eight, the brawls were getting worse. More things and people started to get hurt and damaged. That was when this feud really caught my attention. I wanted change for this city. I wanted the feud to stop as it harmed the innocent. But I thought of it to be impossible. But it was for the good. But no one would want to listen to a girl either. I felt down. Cezanne understood me as always. She reminded me the reason why we were still alive and somewhat powerful. We were smart and slightly informed about a bit of this and that. Knowledge was power, and still is as we speak. I heard that the Capulets had an enormous library of books shared by various scholars through the ages. It was my chance. We found it easier to sneak into the Capulet's orchard as the exit was near the orphanage, also known as our hideout. I then learned how to read and summarize which gave me the ability to share articles with my friends. I never stole their books, I only read in secret. Other than the Montagues, the neutral citizens such as we were, were not allowed in the Capulets' orchard. Only the noble neutrals such as the Prince were allowed. I visited the library every other day. One winter, when I was eleven years old, I arrived home from the library. I was surprised. I saw my parents and Batali sitting around the dining table by the fire. I was about to go inside the bedroom to check on Marie when my mother caught my attention.

"Don't go in there. She's being blessed by the Friar Lawrence," my knees folded as she said that. I loved my sister. Her sweet smile always warmed my heart after getting a beating or two from mom or/and dad. She was buried that night. I stayed strong. I was sure she wanted me to keep my feet on the ground. I was in the library once again. I was trying to figure out an algebra problem from the diary of Blaise Pascal when I suddenly heard a sound. I heard it again, and once more. It was irritating. I looked around and spotted a young man, about three years older than I was. He was eating a crispy red apple. But other than that, his costume was crimson as well. Forgetting that I was wearing my brown and gray dress, I told him "Excuse me but, eating in the library can damage the fragile books," "Good day to you fine maiden, but neutrals being in the Capulet orchard is a far worse case than eating in the library," Just then, I felt the embarrassment run in my nerves. I didn't know what to say. "Here is the deal. I won't tell on you if you keep quiet about me. Is that good?" I just signaled 'yes' by nodding my head and ignored him. He left me considerately as he probably knew I was busy. Disregarding that awkward encounter, I continued reading. Since then, I always saw the boy in the library, and we would always have a brief bond. I learned that his name was Silvan. I must admit that he was good-looking. He had the height, the intelligence, and the charm. I have decided, I wanted to be a court lady of the house of Capulet. In both of the houses, it was as if they had their own country, their own government. Why have I chosen to join the Capulets? You may ask. Here it is. First, I think Capulets have higher pride and are harder to convince than Montagues. Second, after some time that I spent in the library, studying for the qualifying exams of the Capulet court, Silvan would always help me out with some things that I misunderstood. We then grew a bond. But it wasn't as similar to my bond with Cezanne. This bond was something else. I felt a slight anxiety when he was near. My cheeks tended to grow warm. His sweet greetings would sweep me off the floor. I knew it. I was in-love-if that's how they call it. In one of my ordinary days in the library, he said it briefly. As briefly and frank as I am about to put it. He told me he loved me. I stuttered but I managed to tell him my secret. He was happy, I was happy. We were a silent couple, but we knew each other's sincerity.

--End of Second Tale--


	3. The Lemon's Twist

Third Tale:The Lemon's Twist (Capulet)

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I loved her all right. She was the only fair maiden who managed to catch my heart without forcing herself to me, rather exerting any effort. I was happy. Too happy, in fact when she told me that we shared the same type of feeling for each other. But, at this point of the series, I haven't told Caroline the fact that I was the sole heir to the Capulet house. Oh, how rude of me to start this tale without introducing myself. My name is Silvan Capulet. I am here, telling you a tale which haunted (and still haunts) me after the tragic death of my nephew and my beloved daughter.

Resuming to the tale, which I try to explain as it occurred, dear Caroline had prowess in merely everything that concerned her. As she mentioned, she worked and studied hard to be able to qualify as a court member of our house of crimson. She was intelligent, and would have made an excellent court lady. Yes, at this time, women were allowed to join the court. But it studies and intelligence work rarely caught the interest of the women of Verona. It was another day during that particular spring. It was no ordinary day. It was the day of the qualifying exams for those who wanted to join Capulet's court. The examinees started to enter the room. Caroline was one of them, actually the only female who took the test. The scholars stared at her with grimace. But she, who seemed to have never given a damn to what others thought of her, ignored them with her naturally snobbish eyes. They thought she was a snob, I thought she was just pretty. The examiner entered. He was a tall man who had long, wizard white hair and a beard. I recognized the old man. He was one of the greatest philosophers in Verona. His name was Theophile. But he wasn't a Capulet since he served the Prince. Why would he be the examiner of this test for the Capulet court? I guess I wasn't the only one who was surprised about his appearance. Not that he wasn't allowed in the Capulet's orchard, I mean, the man was honored in both houses I suppose. The examinees were already seated. (I was peeking through a little window) All of them stared at the man in question. Theophile probably felt awkward looking at the suspicious stares. He cleared his name. "I am Theophile Machiavelli (We all knew that) and you may be wondering why I am the examiner for this year's court entrance exam. Well, I have accidentally overheard two scholars gossiping that there would be a young _woman _here today," The examinees stared at Caroline again. Pretending he hasn't seen her yet, Theophile asked her to stand up and show herself. She stood up slowly and everyone was still looking at her. "So, you do know that women haven't tried the exam since- I can remember. Have you anything to say for yourself?" his voice was as if he was scolding her. But as I saw it, it was more like a test. Still, the pressure was on her. Somehow, I saw that she was slightly tense. I mean, who wouldn't be? As I thought of all that, she suddenly put herself together and spoke for herself. "There is no rule in Capulet's book that states that women may not take the exam for court. It just so happened that being a member of a court does not catch the interest of most of the women here in Verona, but I make a different case," Her diplomatic answer seemed to have impressed Theophile. She was eleven years old after all. The exam started and it lasted for two and a half hours. She finished the exam ten minutes before the time was up and before everybody else did. All in all, there were two-hundred and fifty examinees and therefore, the results took some time to process and re-check. Of course, I was proud of her. She told me the scenario with Theophile. But what she didn't know was that I knew it as well. I never told her that because I was too distracted by her charm as she spoke. My moments with her were sugar-coated with sweet feelings. It had been two weeks after the exam and her encounter with Theophile. There was another brawl within the servants. These brawls started to seem more like wars. The damages were getting worse. In this particular brawl, the servants made use of fire arrows. More than one area of Verona was damaged. The cathedral that was built during the time before the feud came to be had its roof off its walls. The stone bridge that served as the entrance and exit to Verona, turned into bite-size pieces, and a lot of residences have been burnt to ashes. Luckily, Caroline's house was safe. The prince was at rage. He started giving his sermons to the heads of Capulet and Montague houses. Not only has the brawl given damage to the areas of Verona. But it concludes the hikes of the prices of supplies in order for the government to gain the budget so they could repair the wounds of the city. About two days after the major brawl, Caroline arrived home seeing her parents on the table, mumbling to each other, discretely sharing their thought with something which seemed like regret and doubt.(I had learned this later on)

"Is it really the right thing to do? Should we really give her away? Of all the fine maidens in Verona, why a thief like her?" "I suppose, yes. Not only would it do her good for the rest of her life but--" They noticed the presence of their daughter. "How long have you been eavesdropping, girl?" her father's voice changed to the normal, agonized one. Caroline stood stiff and still, trying to see if there was something wrong with her listening comprehension skills. "Get your things. We are going somewhere," She packed up briefly as Batali watched her helplessly. She packed a quill, a bottle of ink, a blank scroll, and a night dress. Her parents didn't know about her ambitions, they would never have believed anyway. They all went to the Capulet's orchard. Caroline felt the surprise, but her parents and Batali kept their stale expressions. "Here she is," said her father, as he handed her to my father's adviser, Carolus. He felt a little pity for her, but a transaction was a transaction, especially in hard times like those days. Carolus handed a heavy, filled up pouch to her father. They took it with a large grin on their faces. Her mother dragged Batali merrily as he looked back at his little sister, wishing that it was all a nightmare. But he was helpless. Carolus asked her to follow him until they reached my father's office. "Sire, she has arrived," He then left them in the office. My father observed her as he thought that she was an interesting article.

--End of Third Tale--


	4. The Rare Maiden

Fourth Tale: The Rare Maiden (Philip)

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(This maybe shorter than the other tales.It is a brief diary entry after all)  
Note from Silvan: I found an old diary in the library which once belonged to my father as it had his name on it. Not much action though just a tale within Philip Capulet's thoughts.

Spring, 27th day

Carolus left her in front of my office desk. I turned around and my eyes caught the sight of a fair young maiden. She had the eyes which twinkled with innocence and curiosity. The maiden stood with her natural height, and yes she was quite tall. She showed signs of insecurities due to the way I looked at her, so humble about the beauty she had earned from God. She probably felt the weight of my stare-with such enticing eyes like that of my own. I stared at her more heavily as the adjectives dug deeper into my head. Her skin was fair as she dangled like a marionette with her skinny limbs. She was young, in fact too young, as I was informed of her eleven years, nearly turning twelve by the dawn of summer. Don't dare mistake me for a pedophile because I wasn't in-love with her at all. She just reminded me of my own fair lady when she was of the same age. It was a pain to love her when I just lost her in the end-during another brawl with the villain, Montague. My darling Catherine was just off to visit the wise Theophile to return a fragile scroll of Niccolo Machiavelli. Then that Montague- oh how I despise him. I curse him and his feckless house of sickening cobalt! What a waste of man. I must admit, Montague is somewhat wise as we both wanted to be a part of the main court of Verona. Speaking, rather writing of which, I have heard of the examinees for the court this year, and Theophile said himself that there was a very young woman who took part. He said she was rather diplomatic, and knows how to generate a fine, developed answer. First I thought, no, it couldn't be. This maiden is far too young. She's only eleven after all, but her eyes. They told me that she wants to know more, and maybe one of those to change history. But having such a dilemma, I had to satisfy myself with a modified answer, as I always do. I finally had something to say, rather ask the girl.I wanted to ask her what her name was,just to make sure.  
"So, fine maiden,what would your name be?" she had the normal thoughtfulness but answered me rather frankly.  
"My name is Caroline- Caroline Niccolini, Master Capulet" So, she _is _the girl! I was right, as I always was. I wanted to see this certain wit that Theophile said she had, and which seemed so natural. I asked her about the Law of Supply and Demand. She explained it to me so well, gave examples, and used broad vocabulary. I stared at her as she was continuously speaking about its effects on people.But I must admit, I was barely listening.She was becoming more open and confident in explaining in front of me. Forgive me but I had to cut her as I was thoroughly convinced. "Caroline, do you know what your father, Gaspard Niccolini had just done to you?" her faced turned sad, I think she knew the answer. "Don't worry, you are in good hands," she looked at me again with her default curious expression. "Hold on, I'd like you to meet someone." I had called to my son, Philip, as I called him. But I do think he prefers his second name, Silvan. I heard that he had dashed down the hall, Caroline heard it too. Philip had entered the room. He looked shocked to have seen her.If you have guessed by now, you may be right. I suddenly found my son a very suitable fiancee. She may not have the family background but she has the skill, just enough to be able to guide my son when it is his turn. "You two seem like you already know each other," they both looked at me, slightly blushing, or maybe the heat was rising. They were both silent. I excused Philip and myself because I needed to have a word with him. I asked her to wait patiently. As I told my son everything in the earlier scenes and my plans, I noticed that he was just staring at a different direction. That certain direction so happened to be where Caroline was. In short, she was staring at her with the same smile I used when I stared at my Catherine. I, the villain, had the grimacing urge to stop his daydreaming. "ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?" he looked startled. He looked at me."Is there something I should know about?" "Uhmm, father," there was a brief pause. "I already met her- Way before you did," I knew it! Fine, so maybe I didn't. We talked it through. They explained everything and I was all ears. They're lucky, and I actually find this interesting. This evening, I had received a little telegram from the great Theophile. He had announced that Caroline had excelled the test with the highest mark, and only one silly mistake. I told her and she was extremely happy. She and Philip were jumping for joy. I left them, and they were still jumping! I have decided. To avoid any rumors of unfairness, I will only let Caroline join court when she is the official Lady Capulet. The right time will suffice, I assure you, Caroline. You're quite young, so I need to be sure that you can manage.

--End of Fourth Tale--


	5. Seeing Lady Montague

Fifth Tale: Seeing Lady Montague (Lady Capulet)

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It has been two months since I had moved in with the Capulets, which means it has also been two months since I had been engaged with Silvan. It was the twelfth day of fall and there was breaking news. It did involve a lot of the Veronese: those in cobalt, who were marching down the main road, the neutrals and our own crimson-dressed men, who were just standing at the sidewalks. Quite unbelievable I must say-the Capulets giving way to the Montagues? Not that I don't like it, it was fascinating-more like a dream come true.(And I thought Capulets were stubborn as rocks) But why were the Montagues marching down the road? I woke Silvan up as I heard about the news. We rushed to the other balcony for a clearer view. After about five minutes or so, Lord Capulet (Silvan's father) had joined us. "Why the long faces?" he asked. Silvan and I both looked at him in question. Was he actually concerned? He probably felt awkward about our tight glances and defended himself. "I mean, uhmm- What's the march all about? That Montague, all he wants is the publicity," I slightly smirked, but kept it sealed when Silvan looked at me seriously. Before Lord Capulet was able to leave the scene (to avoid further questioning looks), Silvan told him frankly, "Father, Montague- well, he died last night. And the reason why they have this march is to bring him to the chapel for the funeral," his father grew silent. He was in shock but didn't want to show it at the least. "Hmm, not so great after all eh, Montague?" he mumbled, then he left the room. The main avenue of Verona was and still is long, very long indeed. One would get tired by walking. The Capulet Orchard was nearer to the Grand Cathedral of Verona than Montague Manor. Finally, the crowd of the first rows could be seen clearer. The coffin and the main Montague family stayed in the middle. They were probably making sure that no one tries to do anything funny, rather foolish. That was the first time that I would have seen the faces of late Montague's son, Simon and his spouse. It was also spread that the new Lady Montague was pregnant with their first baby. Still, I was quite anxious to see them, knowing that we would end up continuing the feckless tradition. The middle of the line was almost in front of us, rather skew. The coffin was in a covered carriage and the descendants stayed in the open car. Silvan and I were waiting patiently for their faces to be visible. "I already met Leontius and Simon, but I still haven't met their new Lady," he told me. There they were, just right below us. We probably caught Simon's eye. He had a serious face for a young man, slightly older than my sixteen-year-old Silvan. Lady Montague was facing the other way. Her husband tapped her shoulder. It seemed slower than usual slow. Simon waved at us, still with a serious face. Silvan did it back to him. Lady Montague looked at us as well. Her eyes widened-mine did too. I couldn't believe my eyes! But I wanted to be sure, and I bet she did too. So we stared at each other until they weren't visible again. I was shocked. I was sure, yes I was sure, maybe because I already know now. The new Lady Montague was my dear friend Cezanne. I tried to decide on how and what I felt that time. I was happy because then, she was away from poverty. I was upset because I was never told, and sad because I never bothered to ask. I probably had a blank face then. Silvan reached for my right shoulder with his right hand then kissed the left side of my forehead and through the thin layer of my blond hair. "Are you alright, my love?" I embraced him and buried my face on his chest. I could feel the rhythmic beat of his heart. He was warm, and he smelled good as well. I thought of all that while he held me in his arms. "Love," I called, looking up to him. He looked at me with a sweet smile and raised his eyebrows, answering me."What would you do if you had a neutral friend, who later on became a Montague?How would you feel when you find out?" burying my face again."Ahhh..." he whispered, figuring it out. "Well, I would go to him and see if he needs to tell me something. But if in case we would talk, I would treat him as if we were both neutrals," I gasped, looking at him again. "What a genius!" I thought to myself. "Thank you!" I kissed his cheek then rushed back in the house. I still remember catching the sight of him rubbing the cheek which I had kissed. When I reached our room, I quickly opened my wardrobe to get my gray cape.  
"So, Lady Montague's a friend of yours, and I can see that your ready to go and see her,"  
"Of course, I'm about to be married to an intelligent, and handsome man," he seemed flattered, and smiled at the floor. I had to make sure that he wouldn't try and stop me. Just my luck, it didn't work. "You're not going anywhere, Caroline," he was still smiling when I folded the skin between my eyebrows. "Don't try to stop me," I said, rushing down the stairs as he followed. We were already at the door.  
"If you're going then I'm going too,"  
"Fine, fine, you got me. Go dress up and make sure you wear a gray cape, I'll wait right here," he looked at me in doubt, but couldn't doubt me any longer. He rushed upstairs to get ready. I waited- only until I wasn't able to see him anymore. I tried too peek and see if he was at the top of the stairs, but he was no longer there. In a quiet rush, I went outside the gates and dashed to the Cathedral. When I was about ten buildings away from the orchard and it was barely visible, I heard a shout. "Caroline!" Yes, you could guess who it was. Silvan maybe? Ha! No matter how much he screamed, I wouldn't have stopped anyway. I reached the Cathedral, and as expected, the majority of the mass wore Cobalt, and the rest were all in either brown, gray, or gold (the Prince, his family, and honored men like Theophile). It had been a long while, and no one had noticed that I was wearing my crimson dress underneath, nor had Silvan arrived in the area. Only the closest relatives of late Montague and the Prince's family were inside the Cathedral, so the rest mixed up outside. The Montagues who were outside all had rapiers, and there were absolutely no other Capulets. Or were there? I was walking while looking downwards so that I wouldn't meet any faces. Suddenly, I bumped into someone. Alarmed, I looked up at the man. I gasped, it was Silvan!  
"Didn't think I could catch up, did you?"  
"If we get caught it could be fatal,"  
"That's why I'm taking you home"  
"You go, I'm not leaving until I see Cezanne,"  
At that moment, our whispers might have gotten louder. Just then, another voice entered our little scene. "Lost?"

--End of Fifth Tale--


	6. Crimson Caroline

Sixth Tale: Crimson Caroline (Lady Montague)

* * *

There I was, sitting in the open carriage in the center of the cobalt crowd. I never expected the Capulets to start a brawl during the march, nor have I expected them to stay and watch us as if they were mourning as well. We were almost there but we had to pass by the Capulet Orchard first. I was very thoughtful that time and looked at the opposite direction of the orchard. It was on our left, I looked at the right, though I was eager to finally take a glance at the leaders of the feud's new generation. We were finally there though I had lost track of where we were. If Simon didn't catch my attention, I wouldn't have known that we were in front of the Capulets already. Then she was there, and I was shocked seeing her on that balcony-wearing red and with the heir of Capulet's household. I thought she was only a court lady! She must have been shocked as well. Who wouldn't have been? Anyone would be shocked if they hadn't seen their best friend in months, and the next time they meet, that friend had already gone through so much. She must have been feeling or thinking that way about seeing me again. I was in the cathedral, next to Simon and young Benvolio, Romeo was still in my womb. We were just there, in front lay the body of my father in-law, Leontius Montague. It was simple, he died of his age of eighty-three years. It had only been five months since I had met him and married his son-five months since I had last seen Caroline. I had met Simon on the day of our wedding. I must admit that I felt jealous because even though it was an arranged relationship, Caroline was in-love with Capulet's son. Simon was a nice man, though he doesn't prefer to show emotion. He must have a heavy heart for a certain reason. As I mentioned, we were sitting there while the visitors gave their condolences to us. Simon was expressionless. It must have been a shock for him to lose his father (and be the new Lord Montague) at an instant. I didn't know what to do to try and make him feel better, I did nothing. I guess he understood and I hope he did. After long minutes receiving condolences and completing the number of visitors, we all heard a sound. It was choral-like; one tone after the other, making a new sound. What did it sound like? It sounded like the drawing of multiple rapiers. I was sure that that was it, and I was correct. Everyone looked to the direction of the door. Simon grew irritated. "Don't they know any respect?" A few moments later, one of the pages joined us inside and reported to him.  
"Sire-"  
"What is this nonsense about now?" he tried to control himself as he was in the house of God.  
"Well sire, Capulets- they alarmed the men to draw their swords-" Simon rushed outside and he was very angry indeed. When he threw the doors open, we saw clusters of cobalts pointing their swords toward one certain direction. He probably saw who his men were addressing "Rapiers down!" our men hesitated. "NOW!" they grew nervous and finally followed his instruction. Just then, I thought I heard Caroline's voice, loudly speaking but not shouting. "Ho, you Montagues really are aggressive. Is there a problem in giving our condolences? See Silvan, that's exactly why I didn't want you to come," a man's voice joined the scene, it must have been Capulet's son.  
"Well, I needed to be sure that you would be fine,"  
"By explicitly showing up as an enemy, yes," they made the scene, alright, and it made most of us smile. They were engaged children after all. "Please, my friends, do come in," the men gave way, but still with suspicious looks. They reached Simon, thanked and gave him their condolences. She was there. I was so glad to see her, but I didn't decide on what to do or say. I had no idea.  
"Silvan, you can go home now, you know,"  
"Are you kidding? We barely made it in alive!"  
"I guarantee you, Silvan, going out will not be fatal," he answered Silvan and everyone had a little laugh. Even Caroline laughed at him and he looked quite embarrassed. He pulled himself together. The three of them walked down the aisle. She finally saw me. Caroline ran silently and embraced me very passionately. I embraced her as well. It had been five months! "Cezanne," she gasped. "Cezanne, you're choking me!" I let go of her to save her life.  
"I missed you so much!"  
"Yet you don't know how much _I _missed you. Go and see Lord Montague, he might look quite familiar to you," She grinned at me again and joined Silvan and Simon by the coffin. She looked at his face with her default curious expression. "He must have been a very kind man. It must be hard, I'm sorry," she looked at Simon and he looked back at her. "How about you, Lady Capulet? Have you a kind father?" Caroline looked thoughtful, yet sad. Silvan looked at her with sympathy and tried to comfort her that moment. "Gaspard is an awful man in any angle you would look at him. The same goes for his wife,"  
"With that, I too am sorry," She examined the corpse's face once more. She looked shocked and rejoined me on the seats. "He's, he's-" I nodded, showing her that she had figured it out. "That man, Lord Montague- he was 'The Very Mysterious But Generous Man'!" She said his title fancily, as we made it up long ago. She was right. Leontius would always visit the orphanage and bring more than enough bread for all the orphans. He _did_ wear cobalt, but we never knew that he was Montague's second at that time. He always had his eyes on Caroline during those times; since she had challenged him to a duel for getting his hands on her only apple. She was only five then and I was eight. But then fate stepped in. He was surprised to know from me that Caroline had joined Capulet's court. He was rather disappointed. Though I am glad to say that Caroline and Silvan managed to get out of the cathedral alive.

--End of Sixth Tale--


	7. The Very Mysterious But Generous Man

Prologue: The Very Mysterious But Generous Man

* * *

4th day of autumn, 1552

Leaves with the different shades of orange, brown, and red started to detach from the branches and descend to the stone ground. The air started to introduce the coming winter, although the snow had not started to fall. The man in his cobalt costume strolled in the midst of all the chaos in Verona's center plaza. There were various sounds; those of vendors offering bargains, the children running from alley to alley, and of course, the voices of people sharing words like they would usually do. He was there, listening to all these sounds, feeling slightly nauseous with a minor migraine. He was slightly passed the decade of being middle-aged, but he stood firmly, and walked with noble poise. On top of his costume, he wore a gray cape to disguise himself and avoid arrogant Capulets. It did work, as nothing bad happened. Everything was active, and everyone was busy with their own priorities.

"Quick Cezanne, pass it here!" a six-year old girl's voice squealed.

"OK, here you go! But I guess we have to split up, Caroline. Go ahead, I'll meet you there in a while," a more mature one answered.

"Be careful! I want to see you alive tonight,"

"But of course,"

He heard it all, and he started to look for its sources. Something bumped into him, more like some_one._ The cobalt looked down to find a neutral who seemed to be in a rush. It was a child, it was a girl who seemed to be nearing the age of a decade, rather ten years. She looked up in shock.

"I'm really sorry, sir but I must-" she looked back brushed him aside and took off as her hunters were approaching her. There were two of them, a man and a woman, both were wearing cobalt. The girl ran very swiftly and the old man turned to the other two. He reached in for his cape and took out a pouch, which seemed to be filled and heavy, and it was, in fact. The two stopped, looking curiously at him. They were entitled to a sudden shock when they had spotted his ring which had a big, flawless sapphire on it. They were startled and grew nervous and started to shake.

"Please, do take it. Leave the girl and her friends alone. Send me bills of what they thick they have stolen from your stands. Pass this order to all Montague shops. I shall modify this later on with the advisers. Go back to your stands and resume your activities," he was cool as a cucumber.

"Yes, certainly M-M-Master Montague," the woman received the pouch for both of them. They left the scene as they followed his orders. Yes, the old man is Leontius Montague, the widower patriarch of the main household of the cobalts. He turned around and tried to spot the girl again, but she was walking at full speed. He paused, deciding whether he was to follow her or leave her alone. But finally, his curiosity led him to do his first option. He had the time, so it was fine to spare most of it. Leontius headed for the same direction as the girl and ended up in an orphanage which neighbored a little chapel. He spotted her, entering an alley of the buildings' shadows. She entered the orphanage's side entrance. He didn't go any further, but headed back to the market place.

After an hour or so, he knew he had everything complete in his picnic basket. The man headed back to the orphanage. His right hand held a basket which was so full that some of its contents started to fall off and overflow. He left the basket on the main doorstep of the orphanage, which the nuns had found right after he had left the scene. From then on, Leontius would do the same thing as the orphans appreciated it. Other than the nuns who helped him keep the secret, no one else in the orphanage knew his real identity. Thus he was titled "The Very Mysterious But Generous Man".

--End of Prologue--


	8. Fallen, Cold and Dead

Sixth Tale: Fallen Cold, and Dead (Lord Montague)

* * *

It never crossed my mind whether the Capulets would have been able to go to the funeral that day. I was, of course, with Cezanne and my nephew, young Benvolio. Apparently, Cezanne seemed to have known Lady Capulet for the longest while. Silvan, on the other hand, barely changed since the last time that I saw him. Maybe he still wasn't brainwashed by his father by convincing him that Montagues were absolutely evil. At least he still had that conscience of his in tact. My father was described using the best adjectives, but by cobalts only, of course. Though one couldn't really tell whether these cobalts only wanted rewards in return of these compliments or they just wanted a better face. Anyway, no one really knew what he thought of the gestures, not even when he thanked them from head to toe. He was indeed a great man. One who was complicated, but great. But definitely, he was also more than meets the unaided eye.

A person would still be a person no matter how high, or low his reputation may be. I never believed in the existence of the perfect human. He would still have great flaws and great mistakes. Even the Prince had encountered such, as it could never be avoided absolutely. Leontius Montague was no different, though he knew every step he made. But his one certain flaw finally made me decide whether he was a god or a devil. They were the hours that stained my life forever.

I was left in my father's care after my mother died of childbirth. I was their only son, so he thought that he needed to make the most out of me. He wanted me to keep my eyes on the books alone, which is probably why I couldn't even pretend to be related to him with ultimate, sincere sentiment. I wouldn't be shocked if I had spent more time with the pages and even the gossiping maids. But despite all that, I had a friend who was probably the friend that anyone would beg to have, and he definitely spent more hours with me than my father ever did.

I decided that maybe no one knew the exact feeling that I had because of all this. Not even this friend of mine. Up to the day I die, maybe no one ever will understand. I envied Silvan, but he couldn't be blamed. I could tell at that time that he was loved, and that he _knew_ that he was loved by those who surrounded him. His father was typically the strong type, but then I couldn't seem to understand why he could be a father and a leader at the same time. I found it impossible, and even thought that Capulet had the power to turn back time. After repetitively thinking why my father couldn't be the same, I just decided that happiness could never be absolute, for the world must always balance everything as a wise man once told me. These things ought to be complicated, and no one could ever have the same perspective, the way no one could ever occupy the exact same space.

My good friend was very wise, although he was strange and enchanted in a way. The man wasn't from Verona, or any part of Italy, even if he spoke the language with such eloquence, intelligence. He was known to have traveled over land and over sea for an undefined period of time. Only God know how he landed on _our_ doorstep. Throughout my youth, my heart was like an active volcano, only that it was meant to be sealed by a giant cork. But when I was thirteen, this magical day took place.

I was called to the patriarch's quarters just a few moments after the sun's lips greeted the horizon with a soft kiss. I still had the vision of life's living doyen as the sunlight met my eyes. I reached out for my silk tunic, probably my only garment that wasn't blue. My numb feet slid in the velvet moccasins. I could still remember myself tipping over the bottle of peppermint alcohol that was used for the Lampe Berger the night before. It spilled on the Persian rug, but its apparent stains didn't bother one bit. I left the room barely awake, as it started to reek of menthol which hurt my nostrils whenever I took deep breaths.

I walked down the corridor as everything seemed to happen slower than it was supposed to. The portraits that clung on the walls stared at me. As I walked on, I met the eyes of one painted relative to the other. It gave me goose bumps and clothed me in paranoia, thinking that their eyes followed me as I walked past. I cantered, but I was too drowsy to run. Finally, I reached the door with such relief. I knocked weakly, just for the record that I was trying not to be disruptive.

"Come in," his voice thundered without him intending to, and so I entered. There was a silhouette painted by the windows where the sun seemed to have paused. I saw two people, sitting by the coffee table but without the usual documents and the like. I just decided that it was just another business partner. They stood up, proving my failure in keeping pin drop silence. The two approached me, though their image was still garish. I felt quite nervous at first as there was two of them, slowly heading for my little self. But I remembered that I had done nothing wrong and there was nothing for me to be agonized about.

At last, they looked credible, well at least for my poor vision. I had to start that show by showing my respect, which I must admit that was not as sincere.  
"Good morning, dear patriarch,"  
"Good day to you, Simon," his voice thundered monotonously. He continued.  
"This, my boy, is your new professor. He will teach you everything you need to learn and know about. Surely, you will get along well." He pointed to the other man. This man looked in a way that explained his basic characteristics.  
"It's an honor to meet you. I am a man of many names, but you can call me Carlisle," he smiled and spoke politely. I caught father rolling his eyes for an unknown reason. I didn't try or seem to be rude but I just couldn't decide on how I felt. So I kept a stale face.  
"You may start your lessons after breakfast. Maybe by then you two have become more used to each other,"  
I was ordered to return to my room, which still reeked of menthol when I arrived.

The distance between the dining room and my bedroom seemed to have been countless miles. I took my time, remembering that encounter which I then decided to have been awkward. I walked down those corridors again, but the sun lifted my confidence and unclothed me of the paranoia which I had that dawn. That man- that strange foreigner that I met was another book with hidden pages. But I was not convinced that he was evil or the like. I just thought that he was plainly strange. Finally, I arrived after a journey of blistering wind and scorching desert.  
"Forgive me for being late,"  
Before Leontius was able to speak, Carlisle replied to me, smiling, causing his eyes to close slightly.  
"Oh, that's all right," father rolled his eyes once more.  
None of us spoke during that meal. It was the usual bread with olive oil and vinegar as the dip. There were also fresh, winter blueberries with cream, huge Belgian waffles and a glass of bitter red wine to thaw ourselves internally.

Father excused himself from the table and left me with Carlisle. We started the lessons, and through all those years, we talked of many things from fools and kings. But only once, this he said to me "Simon, the greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love- and be loved in return"  
It was probably our greatest and most memorable lesson. It was one which I was never able to interpret with my own life, I never knew how to.

--End of Part 1--


End file.
